


Dumbfounded

by orphan_account



Category: Men's Basketball RPF, Real Person Fiction, Sports RPF
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Anal Sex, Best Friends, Blow Jobs, Christmas, Crushes, Falling In Love, Gay, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Regret
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:55:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26159848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Alphas, Omegas, Betas. Kyrie Irving and LeBron James really like each other, and that's obvious to everyone but them. What happens when they find themselves in a winter dilemma during an NBA cares trip.
Relationships: Andre Drummond/Kyrie Irving, Carmelo Anthony/Chris Paul, Jimmy Butler/Derrick Rose, Jimmy Butler/Kyrie Irving, Kevin Durant/Russell Westbrook, Kyrie Irving/LeBron James, LeBron James/Chris Paul
Comments: 3
Kudos: 19





	Dumbfounded

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah I wanted to make another fanfic, this one is a bit better written and has a plot lol

“Jimmy,” Kyrie called out, honeyed voice swaying the ears of Butler. He blinked up with alarm at the familiar voice, Jimmy was twiddling with the butter knife through his fingers, the metal of the utensil lustrous and glinting against the dim yellowing light of Kyrie’s kitchen. 

A warm afternoon, Jimmy and Kyrie had just finished their lunch at Kyrie’s little house in Ohio. 

They say a pure Alpha and pure Omega can’t simply be best friends. Their drive will have them wanting more, the more they hang out.

Nonetheless, Jimmy Butler was Kyrie’s best friend- nothing more nothing less- and Kyrie being the companion he is, had a growing concern towards the restless Butler. He was very jittery lately, something in him was going on and it was a puzzle to Kyrie. Nothing particularly bad has happened with Jimmy lately, but it’s as if he is recovering from an unspoken event. 

“What? What’s up Ky?” 

Kyrie cleared his throat, letting his eyes flicker from his empty plate to his tapping feet then back to Jimmy, “I know you don’t like LeBron…” Kyrie started, heart trailing a higher and higher frequency of a beat. Pounding in his chest, if heat flashes existed for people not in menopause Kyrie’s damn sure he was about to have one. Jimmy’s eyebrow slowly inclined as he pursed his lips.

“I do not. That motherfucker belongs on the streets, lemme tell ya all the shit Dwyane been telling me man, I fought that Akron dude for goodass reason, like Good Go-” 

Kyrie gave Jimmy a stern pout which inclined Jimmy to hit the breaks on the rant.

After a pause and a brisk staredown Jimmy opened his mouth again, “I don’t see why you wanna defend that guy so much anyways,” he huffs, rolling his eyes.

“Well,” Kyrie starts, kicking Jimmy from under the table half-playfully, “For starters, he’s my teammate,” Irving remarked, slowly crossing his arms and leaning back on his chair. Jimmy snaps his fingers, “That’s right! You should ask for a trade!” he concluded, leaning over the table.

Kyrie couldn’t tell if he was being serious or sarcastic- or maybe it was both?  
“But seriously, why do you feel the need to always shut down my pointers?” Jimmy questions, tilting his head off to one side slightly. Kyrie gulped, for no particular reason, it was just on instinct. He swallowed his spit, because his throat was dry- with worry? Doubt? Fear? Dissatisfaction? Frustration? At this point he couldn’t begin to even identify. 

“Your pointers suck,” Is all Kyrie responded, a small smile curling at the ends of his reddening lips, slightly more tender from the spice of his meal. “They do NOT good sir,” Jimmy scoffed, “Anyways, what were you gonna say about Bron?” 

Kyrie’s eyes widened and flitted repeatedly as if he forgot what he was going to say, Jimmy had to chuckle at Kyrie's innocent yet bewildered expression. 

“Oh!” Kyrie said, animatedly, Jimmy swears a light bulb could have popped up atop his head and Jimmy would not be surprised. Kyrie gently tapped his hands on the table top in a small ba-dum-dum pattern then swallowed his spit again, reaching to pull at his collar.

“Yeah uh, Jimmy, promise you won’t go batshit but ah,” Kyrie picked up a fork and twiddled with it nervously. 

“See? Now you’re making me more curious…” Jimmy uttered, staring right at Kyrie’s face, with no eye contact however, since Irving’s eyes darted downwards at the crumbs on his white porcelain plate. For a moment an eerie silence hushed the house.

“Did he hurt you?” Jimmy darkly asked, Kyrie blinked up, eyes wide with shock, “What? No!” 

“Jimmy, you’re lucky I tell you everything because I would not be telling you this knowing your growing tendencies to feel the need to strangle and stab people-“ 

“Hurry up Ky!” He snapped, his leg jittering impatiently against the wooden floorboards, shaking his chair the slightest.

“I like him,” Kyrie mumbled quickly, eyes fluttering back down on his plate and face reddening. Jimmy’s eyebrow’s knitted in initial confusion, “You like him?” Kyrie looked back up so their dark eyes met. “LeBron.” 

“James?” “James.” 

“Your teammate?” 

“Wh- Jimmy! What other LeBron James do you know!?”

They shared another moment of silence, Kyrie shifting uneasily in his seat. Jimmy rubbed a hand over his face and let out a dragged out sigh, “Why!?” Kyrie opened his mouth to respond, but instead of saying something, he drew in a breath and balled his hands in fists in his lap, still blushing. 

Jimmy narrowed his eyes at Kyrie, “Since when?”

“I just realized I did a week or so ago,” Kyrie admitted, “He’s just really sweet to me, he always helps me improve my game, gives me tips, watches over me, always waits for me after practice and he looks,” Kyrie hesitated, ”… nice.” 

Jimmy clenched his jaw when he saw the twinkle in Kyrie’s eyes. 

“That ain’t right,” Jimmy spoke out. Kyrie winced, “Ain’t right? What do you mean?” Jimmy stood up from his seat and walked over to Kyrie, grabbed his jaw, tilted it upwards, and looked down at Kyrie. 

“Ky, when was the last time you even had a relationship?”

Kyrie rolled his eyes and turned his head pushing Jimmy’s hand away reluctantly. “It was in FIBA 2014, with Andre Drummond, what’s this have to do with anything?” Kyrie asked. “And what was that? Your 2nd ever relationship?” Jimmy snorted. 

“What’s your point?” Kyrie asked, growing embarrassed. Jimmy placed his hands over Kyrie’s shoulders, looking him straight in the eye.

“You just like him because he’s LeBron James. An Alpha superstar.”

Kyrie took this to heart, it hurt like an arrow through his chest. Did Jimmy really think he was that shallow? A chill ran down Irving’s back as he felt the sudden cold air seep into his skin. Maybe he was right? This is Jimmy- his best friend, and 90% of the time he’s knows him best. 

“You… you think so?” Kyrie asked, voice soft and broken, anger melting away. Jimmy chuckled and pinched Irving’s cheek, “Come on ‘Rie, I know you best, of course I’m sure of my word.” Kyrie’s heart dropped, he was pretty hopeful of this crush, but he shrugs it off, he needs to trust his best friend after all. 

Kyrie shook his bitter feelings away as he stood up to grab his and Jimmy’s plate and bring it over to the dishwasher. Jimmy followed close behind, carrying the glass cups and dumping them in the sink with a clang. “He probably doesn’t even like me back anyways,” Kyrie miffed, half-heartedly. 

“I always saw him as a dude into omega women anyways,” Jimmy says, shoving his hands in his pockets absentmindedly. 

“Yeah… you’re right…” 

Jimmy’s right, Kyrie contemplated, I shouldn’t be just jumping into Alphas cause they’re big and strong and look nice, just because they’re sweet. No. You own yourself, Kyrie, you don’t need no Alpha validation. Plus, what will the media think? 

Kyrie should probably set his sights on a less famous guy anyways, avoid the drama. He was a normally private man after all. He liked to keep to himself.

**

The 2014 playoffs are over, over the summer LeBron decided to head back to the Cavs. And though Kyrie hated him at first, the duo has slowly grown fond of each other over the practices...

It's a very excruciatingly hot summer day...

Everyday, before practice, LeBron would get to the facility early at 7 am sharp, same duffle bag strapped over his shoulders every time, humming the same tune as he walks down the same hall. 

And, everyday, Kyrie would come just a tad bit later, catch LeBron walking down the hall then jump at his back from behind, LeBron obliging to a piggy back ride as the laughed, or dodging the smaller man’s hurdle, only to swoop him back up and help him to his feet. 

It became a daily ritual, LeBron forgot how it really all started, it was like the cereal to his breakfast. You do it on automatics. But today, Kyrie was nowhere to be found, and LeBron was worried, but shrugged it off.

Everybody has their late days. He creaked open the locker room door, but it felt weird to walk in without Kyrie beside him. As if a dark cavity was in his chest, LeBron huffed out a sigh. He probably slept in, LeBron thinks. 

James almost choked on his spit when he saw Kyrie half dressed, only in his practice shorts in the locker room alone. LeBron’s dark chocolate eyes travelled to scan Kyrie’s chest tattoos then down to his tightly sculpted abs then his slim waist. 

“M-Morning,” Kyrie greeted, slightly taken aback. LeBron felt something off, “Morning Ky, you’re early,” he replied as casual as possible. Kyrie nodded then quickly turned back to his duffle bag. LeBron slowly placed down his duffle bag on a spot nearby Irving. Kyrie on the other hand, could feel Bron’s searing stare on his back.

LeBron tapped Kyrie’s bare back causing Irving to jolt up with a shiver. “Ky, is something wrong?” 

“What?” Kyrie asked turning around to face LeBron, looking upwards so their eyes met, “Nuh uh…” LeBron’s eye twitched, “You’re a really bad liar you know that?”

Born chuckled at Kyrie’s little frown. “I’m not lying though,” Kyrie demanded, proceeding to turn around before LeBron grabbed his upper arm. Ky let out a small gasp at the feeling of LeBron’s firm grip clasped around his upper arm, abstaining him from further movement.

“C’mon Kybear, don’t be afraid to tell me anything…” Kyrie let out a small chuckle, it was a cross of a nervous laughter and genuine appreciation of LeBron’s concern. “I’m just worried about my dog, he’s been walking around in circles lately…” Kyrie explains, which is true. His mutt was acting off lately, and he has 2, so it’s hard to focus on one when the other is pissing on the neighbour’s lawn again.

LeBron’s expression softened, “Rocky or Drew? (Yes those are his actual dogs)” Kyrie tried to will away the blush as LeBron stared right at him with intent concern and care. “Uh, Rocky, I should get him checked out after practice. Maybe I should change his diet,” Kyrie laughed nervously. 

“You should’ve told me Ky,” LeBron said, “I’ll drive you guys then, I just refilled on gas anyways.” 

Kyrie wanted to object, but LeBron had already walked over to the washroom side of the locker room. He plopped down on the locker room bench and sighed.


End file.
